Jurassic Park III: Against the Odds
Written by Kara
SUMMARY: Billy's POV. Big spoilers so don't read if you haven't seen the movie yet unless you like having the movie spoiled for you (like I do). Cameo by the spiffy compys because they didn't appear quite enough in the film.
"Do you think it goes all the way across?" Eric Kirby peered into the thick fog, wondering if this rusty, decaying old catwalk was their way to the barge waiting below, or if it was just another death trap the instant you laid your foot on it, By the neglected look of it, Billy Brennan, standing behind the group of five, voted for the latter.
"Only one way to find out." Dr. Alan Grant announced, regaining his spirit and ambition after his near fall from the stairs only seconds earlier. He had more passion for taking risks than any other person mostly because he possessed the desire to live and get off this island more than anyone else. Billy admired his strong qualities- he admired everything about Grant, which is why it was so difficult to know how ashamed Grant was at him for stealing the raptor eggs from the nest. It was without a doubt the most naive and brainless thing Billy had ever done in his entire life. It had put all their lives at risk- but still, knowing the reasons didn't make it any easier for the young man to know that his mentor- his friend- now abhorred him...
Dr. Grant edged onto the catwalk reluctantly. The metal supports creaked and groaned audibly as he did so. Obviously, they weren't what they were eight years ago.
"I think we had better do this one at a time." Grant said, more of a command that a suggestion. He turned slowly and disappeared into the fog after only about three feet. All four onlookers watched and listened with baited breath to Grant's careful and calculated footsteps until they finally stopped.
"OK, you can come across now!" came the paleontologist's voice.
Billy had no intentions of going until last so he backed away to let the Kirby's go first.
Amanda Kirby turned to her son and gripped his shoulders reassuringly. "Eric, honey, Mommy's got to leave you for just a minute, but you'll be right behind-"
"Mom. I survived alone on this island for eight weeks. I think I can handle the next two minutes without you." the thirteen year old interrupted
Billy had to admire the kid's wit. Maybe Amanda Kirby was being a *bit* too over-protective.
The mother exchanged a nervous, shocked look with her ex-husband, Paul Kirby, and at a reassuring smile from their son, crossed onto the catwalk. Several tense moments later, Amanda's voice came floating over to them. "OK, come on Eric!"
Paul Kirby guided his son onto the catwalk, hand on the boy's shoulder to let him know in a less subtle way that he would still be there later on. Eric vanished into the mist leaving Billy and Paul alone.
Billy averted his attention to his shoes, the hot burning of shame and guilt still evident in his conscience. He couldn't force himself to talk or even look at any of the people he was with. He nearly gotten them all killed. He didn't deserve their regard. They probably didn't have anything to say to him anyway.
Paul shifted uncomfortably, anticipating his son's reply, but what came instead was every parent's worst fear- Eric's terrified screams!
Billy's stomach flopped over when, without warning, Eric came running back in his and Paul's direction, a tremendous creature with even bigger wings in hot pursuit of the boy. With barely any time to react, the two men froze and the exuberant winged reptile took flight, snatching up Eric as it flew off! It had just tightened it's claws around the youth's shoulders and hoisted him off the catwalk like an eagle would to a fish and flew over their heads into the fog. Just like that, Eric was gone!
Blindly, Billy and Paul spun around trying to figure out what direction the bird had taken. Alan and Amanda rushed across, meeting up with them in just seconds.
"Did you see him?! Where is he?!" Amanda was near hysterics. Paul wasn't too far behind.
"I- I don't know! I just-" Paul didn't know what to say. He had just witnessed his son being carried off by the prodigious reptile to who-knows-where. They weren't sure there was anything they could do, but unless they acted quickly, Eric would be bird food.
'I have to do something- anything- to make this right.' Billy thought instantly. Paul and Amanda Kirby wouldn't be able to handle the thought that they had finally saved their son only to lose him once more. He remembered the tattered parachute they'd found at the crash site yesterday and an idea popped into his head. He hadn't gone parachuting since the previous year when he'd almost been killed (and even then they weren't being harassed by extinct reptiles), However, that didn't matter to Billy as he slipped away from the frantic group unnoticed and dashed up to the observation deck a floor above. He could do this... After doing so much wrong, he would finally do something right.
The young man checked the parachute once before climbing onto the balcony's ledge. It was a long way down and the ground was invisible to him through the fog. The whole scene was dizzying and a sensible part of his mind asked him why he was even doing this but the irrational part of his brain was the part he was focused on at the time...
It was then that Dr. Grant noticed his protégé above his head, ready to jump. "Billy..." Grant began, getting the false impression of Billy's intentions.
Billy shot the older man a 'I-have-to-do-this' look. "It's OK. I know the consequences." He averted his sight back to the daunting mist for only a second, realizing that he had no idea what he was about to do. Parachuting in a constricted, tight area was not the most-advised thing to do and was damn near impossible.
"Billy... NO BILLY!" Grant cried as the young man jumped off the ledge.
He fell several yards, hoping the canyon was deep enough before he jerked on the ripcord. The parachute exploded above him in a bright red and white burst and immediately caught a strong updraft which carried him back up slightly.
Gripping the cords tightly, Billy focused solely on steering himself around the enveloping canyon walls in the direction the still-unidentified bird had supposedly taken Eric. The vigorous drafts were somehow enough to carry him quite easily, though he hoped they weren't too strong or else they might blow him into one of the rocky and very lethal walls. He was dancing on the edge of a knife as it was already...
Around a bend, the mist cleared and Billy caught sight of Eric on a high rocky pillar, fending himself off with... what looked like a skull... The boy tossed the rotting bone at a large nest full of at least half a dozen hatchlings on the pillar next to him. It seemed to keep them away- for only a second. Moments later, the famished birds swarmed him, biting and pecking him with their tiny beaks.
Eric protected himself as best he could, throwing the hatchlings off him but he was outnumbered. They just kept coming. It was then the boy noticed Billy coming to his rescue. He tossed the last of the hatchlings off and hopped to the pillar next to his to get closer to Billy when he came by.
With careful precision, Billy steered himself as near to the pillar as he could get. "Jump now!" he demanded of Eric.
With the baby 'birds' on his heels Eric jumped and grabbed Billy's leg as he passed. The added weight of the thirteen year old shot a sharp pain up Billy's leg but he ignored it. He had much more important things to concentrate on- like getting the both of them to the ground safely.
Just when the duo had gotten out of range of the nest, there was a distinct tug on the parachute. Horrified, Billy and Eric looked up to see that the mother reptile had torn a crippling hole through the cloth with her claws. She wasn't letting her prey escape that easily... The two began to lose altitude, falling quickly.
"Eric! Let go!" Billy ordered. "It's the only way!" The younger boy hesitated briefly, but let go, splashing into the lake from ten feet above. Now Billy's only dilemma was getting himself out of the harness. Unable to function any longer, the parachute became snagged on a spire of rock, leaving Billy wide open and vulnerable. He swung around, just barely avoiding smashing into the acute unblunted canyon walls and instantly began tugging on the harness to get it off, only vaguely aware of Grant's cries below.
A large animal- now identified as a Pteranodon by it's coloring- came right at Billy, the intent to kill evident in it's eager black eyes. It swooped in near his head but Billy ducked just in time so it instead severed part of the harness.
Thanking cruel fate, Billy wrenched on the harness until it snapped, letting the young man drop into the deep pool below with a big splash. He hit the bottom of the river hard with his right foot, a dagger-like pain stabbing his ankle, but he dragged himself to shallow water anyway. Surfacing and standing upright, Billy found himself in knee-deep water and staring at Paul and Dr. Grant about ten yards away.
Paul looked grateful and Grant just looked relieved that Billy was OK. The older man began to smile, but that grin faded away only moments later, replaced by a look of disconcern.
"Billy, look out!" Grant yelled.
Billy frowned knowingly and glanced over his shoulder to see several Pteranodons closing in on him. He waved his arms frantically at the Grant and Paul. "GET BACK!" he screamed at them, motioning for them to run. "GET BACK!" As he began to wade towards his companions, something hard and solid struck him in the shoulder like a hammer. The crippling blow sent Billy sailing forward into the frigid river and it wasn't until he tried to stand up again that he realized the Pteranodons still weren't satisfied...
With no where to run and little time, Billy was again attacked by the Pteranodon, but this time it had help... Two or three more gigantic reptiles joined the mother, swarming their new prey with vengeance.
Ignoring the pain in his ankle, Billy tried to run but the predators were relentless. They bit, scratched and clawed at his back as he retreated, leaving his shirt in tatters with hot blood trickling down his back from the deeper wounds. He threw up his arms to protect himself but found that to be a serious mistake. A Pteranodon latched itself onto Billy's arm, it's claws scraping across his comparatively tender skin like thorns and tearing it viciously. Gasping in agony, Billy stumbled on as the blitzkrieg assaults continued without end. It was all occurring too quickly... what was he supposed to do?
As Billy stumbled upriver, he took every chance he could to search for a place to hide, something to make the pain go away, but as the Pteranodons persisted in attacking the young man, it seemed less and less apparent that he would make it that far...
A larger, bull Pteranodon tried to lift him off the ground by sinking it's claws into his shoulders but found this difficult when it had to fend off it's fellow reptiles to do so. Billy punched his clenched fist at the bird only to have it sink it's teeth into his wrist.
The beast let go as Billy tripped on a rock, but not before it's dagger-like claws scraped his already bloody shoulders. When he was thrown to the ground once again, he struck his head on another rock, just above his left eyebrow. There was almost a sure chance he wouldn't make it out of this alive...
It was then, as he picked himself up off the ground weakly that Billy noticed a dark hole in the canyon wall. He didn't know how far it went back or even if he would fit through the opening, but he couldn't wait any longer or the chance would be gone, and in his state, he couldn't afford that...
Billy backhanded the closest Pteranodon, sending it into the water, and ran, the flock still barraging him. Much to his own surprise and the Pteranodons' chagrin, Billy made it to the hole in one piece. As he dove through, however, a frustrated bird latched onto his bad ankle, twisting it's teeth into his skin and making the young man cry out in pain. He kicked at it's face with his left foot several times before the Pteranodon finally let go, shrieking in distaste. Using this opportunity, Billy crawled deeper into the crawl-space until his back was leaning against the small cave's backside.
The flock still hadn't had enough, apparently. This... this prey of theirs had just stolen lunch then got away itself. They weren't about to give up on the hunt this easily. Screeching and cawing in anguish, they jammed their long beaks into the cave at Billy, missing him by only a hair's breadth. Billy kicked out his foot, coming into contact with the Pteranodon's eye. It recoiled in horror and tried to retaliate but the hole was too small. Despite it's best efforts, it could not reach it's crippled prey. The birds were just too vast to fit in the cave. After only a minute of scrabbling and biting at the surrounding rocks of the entrance frame, the flock finally gave up, leaving a bleeding and broken Billy collapsed inside the cave.
He lay still for a long time- he couldn't tell how long- just recovering from the sudden shock. He hadn't thought it possible, but his body hurt everywhere. He was bleeding from various wounds on his body, his ankle hurt like Hell, and every time he moved, he was reminded of the pain of the open wounds. He was surprised he was still amongst the living, but he didn't hold much hope of making it out of this hole alive... Besides, the flock was probably waiting just outside the cave for him. The velociraptors were clever enough to set a trap. Who says these... creatures... wouldn't as well. He only hoped that Dr. Grant and the others had gotten out of the canyon safely. He would hate it to know that his sacrifice had been in vain, but he'd dislike it even more to know that Grant- his close and valued friend- was in the same position as himself.
Billy decided that he'd best check his injuries before he lost too much blood to move. He may have lost most of his hope, but there was still that tiny percentage inside of him that fought bravely to survive. He wasn't about to give up yet.
Stinging, blinding pain coursed through Billy's arms and shoulders when he attempted to move them. Wiping a trickle of blood away from his eye gingerly, Billy saw that his right forearm had three deep gashes running along it's length from the thick claws. The other arm had the bite pattern of a Pteranodon around his wrist and hand, but there were no other serious wounds on his arms. His hands were shaking violently at the sight of so much of his own blood but that couldn't prepare him for his other injuries.
Billy knew he needed something he could use as bandages but the only thing he thought of was the tattered tan over-shirt he was wearing. Carefully removing the shirt, Billy leaned against the damp wall, groaning at the slashes on his back.
Even though the shirt had already been ripped into fairly long strips, it took all the young man's energy to tear them away. He wrapped one around his right arm and another around his left hand, hoping they would stay tight enough to keep pressure on the wounds and prevent them from bleeding anymore.
Using his right hand, Billy wiped away the crimson blood that was dripping down his forehead from when he hit the rock. His fingers barely touching his head, Billy traced the laceration from his right temple to mid-forehead. It wasn't deep, but it was serious. It would require a few stitches- if he didn't die first... In the meantime, the young man dabbed at it with a strip of cloth, cleaning away the blood before wrapping his cut awkwardly.
Not wanting to remove his black T-shirt, Billy pulled down the neck to examine his shoulders. Both had deep puncture wounds and gashes but there wasn't much he could do to them besides apply pressure. Most of the cuts were only minor. It was the holes from the claws that really made his shoulders sore.
Though it ached intensely, Billy leaned forward to roll up his right pantleg. The ankle was already swollen from when he dropped from the parachute and the Pteranodon bite only served to irritate the wound even more. He couldn't even move his leg without hurting it more, he knew. Nonetheless, the young man lifted the foot onto a flat rock and used the remaining strip from his T-shirt on the ankle. He held the cloth ineptly with only his left fingers, the bandage preventing him from holding it any tighter.
Quite certain that he'd done all he could do, Billy leaned back again, licking a minute amount of blood off his bottom lip. He spit into the water on the floor of the cave he was in, trying to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. What he wouldn't give for an Altoid... Better yet, what he wouldn't give for some Aspirin... or a bottle of whiskey- whatever worked better.
Unwilling to leave the safety of his hiding place, Billy thought about everything that had just transpired These 'birds'- now clearly identified as Pteranodons, were not natural by any account. According to fossil records, Pteranodons were generally smaller than this. There creatures were not of customary size or stature and a conventional Pteranodon could not carry off a thirteen year old boy like these ones had. Obviously, the reptiles had been genetically engineered to be bigger and stronger than they should have been, most likely for public show and entertainment. These giants had been locked in this birdcage for eight years. They probably only ate whatever came in by river so it was no wonder they decided to attack Eric and Billy. Not only was he a threat to the nest, he could feed the whole flock for a few days... before he got away, that is...
He hadn't heard any commotion outside for a while and hoped again that Grant and the Kirbys had gotten away safely. If they escaped this observatory and managed to avoid the velociraptor pack, they would surely continue on to the coast to anticipate rescue. Someone would find them eventually, if they got that far. Billy wondered if the others knew he was still alive. If not, he didn't blame them. He'd hadn't thought he'd make it this far either, but still... if they were waiting out there for him, he didn't want to make them wait long.
Weakly, Billy pulled himself up, using the cave entrance for support as a wave of nausea overtook him. When the dots before his eyes cleared, the young man stumbled out into the daylight, scanning the area for Pteranodons. He didn't see any, but that didn't mean they weren't there. He picked up a big stone from the water intending to use it as a makeshift weapon if necessary.
Billy also didn't see Grant or the others, but again- that didn't mean a thing... Something floating along with the current several yards away caught Billy's eye as he searched the river. He limped over to it and snatched it out of the water, noting it to be Dr. Grant's ragged old fedora hat that he wore practically all the time. That unmistakable old thing...
A sick feeling crawled into the pit of Billy's stomach. If Grant's hat had been knocked off somehow, then... No, that didn't signify anything. It could have easily been blown off. Was he even wearing it earlier? Before Billy had been attacked? He couldn't remember.
The paleontologist clutched his friend's hat to himself like a safety net. It was probably the only thing keeping him sane right now. As long as he didn't find any bodies anywhere, he was grateful for the fedora. Suddenly, Billy realized he'd been standing in the open all this time and could be easily spotted by predators. He had to find a way out of this observatory. Obviously, the others weren't here anymore.
Dizzy and disoriented, Billy waded to the nearest shore, slowly, due to his injuries. He couldn't risk hurting himself any further. He still had a long way to trek... though each step reminded him of how hard it would be. He needed a reprieve from his ankle. Ahead of him, Billy saw a fallen tree branch. Stepping on the lower, thicker half with his good foot, Billy painfully leaned over and snapped the upper half of the branch so it left him with a decent enough walking stick.
Shifting his weight to his left foot, Billy stuffed Grant's hat into one of his oversized cargo pant pockets so he wouldn't lost it. He tested the stick, using it as a cane to walk. It let up on his ankle a little bit, but the pain was still noticeable. It would have to do, however. If Billy was to be rescued with the others, he's have to make it to the coast with them, however far away that may be...
He set off downriver, wary of his surroundings, and soon came upon a set of claw marks dug into the dirt right in front of an open set of double gates. The door out of the observatory. Billy's stomach tightened. These birds, these genetically enhanced giants, were free to go wherever they pleased. They had escaped this birdcage to join the free birds of the sky to fly, to hunt, to kill...
Fortunately, Billy also realized something else. The Pteranodons could not have opened the gate by themselves. That must mean someone had survived! Sure enough, he noticed one or more sets of tracks made by human feet leading out into the foreboding forest. Grant HAD to be one of them, Billy was convinced.
A sound Billy had come to recognize as the flapping of wings sounded from somewhere near him and the young man looked behind him to see another large Pteranodon swooping down for him...
Quickly, Billy limped out of the gate and pushed on the other side, trying to get the heavy door shut before the reptile got too close. Using all his strength he could summon, Billy shoved the gate shut and latched it. The beast crashed into the mesh wire, causing Billy to slip and fall back into the mud. Sprawled on the ground and having barely escaped death once more, Billy scrambled away from the gate, his heart beating rapidly. The Pteranodon squawked at Billy, clawing at the gate to be free like it's fellow birds. Billy wished it wouldn't make so much noise... Other dinosaurs could be nearby...
The young man made sure he still had the hat and stick and made his way to the river where they had seen the barge earlier. Like expected, the boat was gone. He couldn't even see it downriver. The others were gone and there was no way he could catch up in the near future.
There was only one option- start walking.
*~*
Hours later found a fatigued and weary Billy following the same river which seemed to stretch on endlessly. Night had consumed him and the once hot, muggy temperature had surprisingly dropped to at least 75 degrees. The darkness of night was closing in and Billy wished he had a flashlight. Pretty soon he would be moving blindly in hostile territory without knowing where he was even going. He was ready to collapse from lack of sleep and hurting worse than ever, but he couldn't stop. Falling asleep here, now, would only mean death.
So he trudged on, right arm clutching the cane, left arm wrapped around his waist in a last-ditch effort to stay warm. His pace had slowed visibly, though he hadn't realized it yet. The wounds- which he's had to re-wrap more than once- were getting to him. His body weighed down on his legs like a ton of bricks with every step he took and his mind cried out for sleep that he would now allow.
If he could just stop here and take a little nap, what would be the harm? Just rest his eyes for five minutes and continue?
Finally, the war in Billy's mind got the better of him. His knees buckled, the stick dropped out of his hand and the world started spinning around him like a merry-go-round. The scene dancing before his eyes made him dizzy and Billy found he could not pick himself up. His body had had enough and betrayed him once and for all. He stared at the river without a thought inside his head besides grim ones of death and pain as darkness swept over him.
*~*
The next thing Billy knew he was at home... Cheryl Logan was there. He and Cheryl were lying in his bed, just lying there, talking. Cheryl was looking at Billy. 'God, she's gorgeous' the young man thought, bemused. She giggled at something but Billy wasn't paying attention to the words being spoken. He was concentrating on Cheryl in all her magnificence.
The young lady leaned down and whispered something in Billy's ear but again the words were lost to him. All he knew is he liked this attention. He'd been going after Cheryl for some time, working his charms. Sure he was a hopeless flirt, but could you blame him? Cheryl still liked him for it.
Billy closed his eyes, drifting away mentally and smiled as Cheryl stopped whispering in his ear and started... nibbling on it... She moved down to his neck and... suddenly, his bedroom faded away before him. His clean, white walls morphed into the green leafy forest and murky brown water several feet ahead. The sweet, perfume-y smell he'd sensed only moments before vanished, replaced by that of a stank, horrid smell unfamiliar to his senses. But the feeling- oh the glorious, comfortable feeling he could feel before, dissipated and all he could feel now was cold, hard ground and dirt... and oh so much pain... The pain was unbearable... It made Billy want to scream but no sounds came out.
With a groan, Billy remembered where he actually was. He wasn't at home, in his bed, with Cheryl, he wasn't anywhere near there! He was on the dangerous, uninhabited, restricted Isla Sorna, the former Jurassic Park breeding island. He was alone, lying on the ground, and he was injured... The Pteranodon attack... It all came back to him now in a rush. He barely had time to comprehend all that had happened when he felt a sharp pain tugging at his ear.
Cheryl Logan wasn't nibbling on his ear... something else was! Billy tried to lift his hand to brush the creature away, whatever it was, that was biting him, but he found he could barely lift his arm. All of the sudden the thing bounded in front of his face. Billy recognized it instantly. It was a compy. Procompsognathids, actually. Their breed was no bigger than a common chicken and this one proved correct. It was the right size, unlike the Pteranodons. The compy looked at Billy curiously, cocked it's tiny head and made a chirping noise.
Disgusted and disgruntled, Billy slapped his hand at it, sending it flying into a bush. He'd had enough of dinosaurs getting a 'piece' of him today. No more biting, no more scratching, no more friggin' nibbling! Besides, the compy made him uncomfortable. Compys were commonly scavengers, which meant they only hunted that with the aura of the dead or dying... Kind of like vultures or a mini Grim Reaper.
After it had recovered, the small dino popped back out of the bush, obviously angry at it's treatment by it's supposed meal and chirped at Billy some more. But just as the young man was about to hit the compy again, he felt something nipping at other parts of his body- his hands, his feet, his neck... The compy wasn't alone!
Compys were generally harmless dinosaurs when matched with bigger creatures. They couldn't do much harm to Billy due to their size, but their needle-like teeth were really starting to hurt! Billy pushed himself up, knocking a few of the pests off as he did so but they jumped back on him like lizards and continued to assault him.
With a grunt, Billy picked one off his shoulder and threw it three feet into the brush. He looked around to see that he was surrounded by the buggers. At least 10 or 12 of them, and they all had this odd look of fierce determination in their eyes. A couple of them swarmed him, biting at his fingers as he brushed them off. Compys weren't supposed to be this aggressive, but he guessed that eight years on either island and previous encounters with hostile humans would make them tougher. He really didn't want to put up with this now. Weren't the damned Pteranodons enough?
And, like the flying reptiles, the compys attacked from all angles relentlessly, biting and scratching at his face. Frantically, Billy threw them off as fast as he could, but not before one sunk it's tiny teeth into his neck. Yelling in frustration, Billy grabbed the compy by it's body and ripped it off, taking a bit of his skin with it, as the creature refused to let go.
It was obvious that sitting here was getting him no where, so Billy stood up, brushed off the compys, and looked for a place to run. He didn't have much time to think, so he just ran. The compys followed dutifully, nipping at his heels. Billy kicked up a wave of dust and dirt at the flock but it didn't stop them.
He considered scaling a tree but he wasn't in any state and he knew he wouldn't be able to do it in time. There was no where to hide from the little guys... but then Billy saw the river. Compys couldn't swim, could they?
With barely a second thought, Billy changed course towards the river, diving in head first. The cold water sent spikes through his body and stung his wounds, but he quickly resurfaced, treading water in the middle of the river where it was just slightly over his head.
Shivering from the frostiness Billy pushed his hair off his forehead and looked towards shore. Many of the compys halted at the shoreline, chirping angrily at their escaped prey; Others just ran around maniacally, biting and snapping at each other. Several bolder ones tried to jump in after Billy but they were consequentially swept away by the current, squealing in distress.
Billy had escaped the dinosaurs once more... but now he was stuck in the river... He flowed with the current for a while, the compys following him on shore, but soon the miniature dinosaurs got bored with their lost meal and ran away. Billy waited until he was sure the compys were gone then waded towards shore again. Slowly, the drained young man pulled himself out of the river, collapsing in a heap on the shore. Now he was wet and miserable. And still alone. Could it get any worse?
His hope had run out. Like water sinking down the drain, the thoughts of surviving dissipated. It was kind of a disheartening irony, Billy mused, that a thirteen year old boy could pull through alone on this island for eight whole weeks, but four adult men could last barely two days. Billy really admired the kid now. He only wished he was as strong-willed as Eric.
Billy lay there- he didn't know how long- just watching the sun rise over the trees and thinking about his family, his friends, every person he'd ever cared about. He found himself dispersed in memories, visions of a more pleasant time. Celebrating holidays with relatives... vacationing with friends... making new discoveries on his job... The pain was lost to him. All he could see now was the leaves of the trees rustling and swaying slightly with the breeze.
Eventually, the leaves began to blow more violently, without cause, really. The young man gazed up curiously, his expression shifting into one of fascination as the branches themselves began to shake with the leaves, but he felt no breeze whatsoever.
A sound reached his ears... a vague, clicking noise. More dinosaurs, maybe? Why not? Everything else on this island wanted a piece of him. The sound morphed into that of... a helicopter... but that was impossible wasn't it? No one could know they were here already... why would there be a helicopter?
Billy began to pass it off as more hallucinations. Yes he was definetely fantasizing again. There was no way he was being rescued now. He was supposed to die now. He was supposed to be dead already...
But as the 'helicopter noise' came closer, it's presence became harder to deny. Could Dr. Grant have gotten word to someone already?
Billy pulled himself into a sitting position. If he was right- if there really was a helicopter- he might as well try to signal it. He was going to die anyway... Why not die twenty feet from here? At least then he'd know he'd made an effort to survive.
Idly, Billy rose to his feet and trudged through the towering trees towards a clearing visible ahead. Once he was there, he looked up expectantly and saw what he least expected to see.
There actually was a helicopter up there in the sky! Well... hypothetically. He wouldn't see it beyond himself to dream up another mirage like the one with Cheryl.
It was passing overhead at a snail's pace so Billy took the chance to wave his arms over his head so the unconfirmed helicopter pilots would see him... if they were even there. It worked! The chopper hovered, then began to descend towards him!
Whatever Billy had done, help could be on the way. He would just have to wait and see what happened. Perhaps he really had just signaled a helicopter. In any case, his energy was gone, and upon taking a deep breath of fresh air, the young man sunk to his knees then lay in the dirt on his side. In a few minutes he would either be dead, or be rescued. Right now, either option seemed to be a desirable one...
*~*
It all happened like a dream. One minute, Billy was lying down, eyes closed. The next instant there were faces above him, hovering over his own. Two men and a woman from what he could see. Fragments of conversation were heard.
"... He's still alive... conscious too..."
"Can't believe..."
"He should be dead by now..."
But none of this was sure proof of anything substantial. All that he's heard and seen thus far could be created with his mind. It wasn't until one person actually touched him that Billy knew he wasn't envisioning things again. This was real... He had actually been rescued!
One of the men put two fingers on Billy's wrist, checking for a steady pulse. Billy grimaced as light was shone directly into his eye.
"He's reactive..." the woman announced.
"Sir," the man who had touched him addressed Billy. "Sir, can you hear me? Is your name Alan Grant?"
"Grant? No..." Billy's heart sank. "You haven't... you haven't found them yet? The others..." Billy coughed trying to sit up. Strong hands pushed him back down gently. "The coast... they're there. I know it."
"Sir, please lie still. We will find any other survivors in your party but you need to cooperate first."
"... kay..." Billy left himself in the hands of the professionals. They, at least, knew what they were doing on this island.
"Hey! What's the damn hold-up?! I'm not waiting on this island any longer than five minutes. Let's go- now!" A different voice sounded from farther away. 'Probably someone in the helicopter.' Billy surmised.
"Just one minute!" replied the medic.
Slipping in and out of consciousness, Billy was dimly aware of the people rolling him onto a harder surface. Straps were placed over his chest, preventing Billy from moving, but it's not like he has anywhere to go anyway...
The people tending to him each took a place around the board Billy lay on and lifted it to transfer him into the helicopter. The people had barely set foot inside when the chopper took off, raising back into the air... off this island...
Inside, Billy slipped into a blissfully ignorant state, elated that the nightmare was finally over. He didn't even realize when a needle was inserted into his arm.
As the paramedics dressed the Billy's wounds, he asked, "How did you know to come here?"
The female medic responded. "We got a phone call. From a Dr. Ellie Sattler."
Ellie... Grant talked about her a lot... usually with an air of sadness, regret... In any case, that could only mean one thing: Grant was still alive! Or at least he was when he made the call...
"May I ask what your name is?" the woman interrupted Billy's thoughts as she dabbed something on the cut on his forehead.
'Ooh, felt that...' Billy winced at the stinging sensation. He answered anyway. "Uhh, Billy. William Brennan."
"All right, Mr. Brennan. Do you remember how many others were in your party?"
"...Four." he said reluctantly. "At least I hope there's still four. They're on a boat, uhh... uhh, a barge. On the river. Are you going to look for them?"
"Yes, of course we will. Our pilot has called in a message. There should be troops on the coast in about ten minutes. We already have another chopper waiting there."
'Troops?' Billy thought, perplexed. He glanced around the inside of the chopper just now noticing it's vastness. They were in a military helicopter!
The woman gingerly unwrapped Billy's makeshift bandage that had somehow managed to stay on his right arm the whole time. She shivered slightly at the sight of all the blood.
"What did this?" she asked icily.
"A really big bird." Billy was in no mood for specifics. Out of the corner of his eye, Billy noticed as the male medic lifted his pantleg past his ankle to out some sort of splint structure on his foot. Except something was preventing him from rolling the cloth up. The man pulled Grant's hat out of the pantleg pocket and held it up.
"What do you want me to do with this?"
"Give it to me." Billy said quickly, taking the fedora under his left arm.
"You need some rest." the woman medic informed.
"I will." Billy lied. The truth was, he just couldn't sleep until he was sure Grant and the Kirbys were safe.
*~*
Several minutes passed without conversation when the fourth person in the chopper besides the two medics and the pilot, spoke up. Billy guessed that this man was there for protection purposes as he carried quite a hefty gun close at all times and didn't seem to know how to do much else.
"Down there. Take us lower."
Billy's pulse raced. "Did you find them? Are they down there?"
No one answered him, just landed the helicopter silently. Billy felt like a little child again, wanting to know things that the adults knew, but that no one would tell him, as if he wouldn't understand. The gunman hopped out the side without a word. Billy propped himself up on his elbows, figuring that if no one was going to tell him what was going on, he'd find out for himself, but the woman held him back firmly.
About four tense minutes later, the gunman returned, his face expressionless as always. The other passengers glanced at him with rapt interest, their eyes asking all the questions.
"There's a barge down there in the middle of the lake." he reported to the pilot. "Looks like it crashed into something. I also saw what looked like come big cage in the middle of the lake but I can't see if there's any... thing inside. It's half-sunken. Anyhow, I can't find anybody down there. They've either moved on by foot or..." he couldn't bring himself to say the words in front of Billy.
Billy didn't need the words, however. The situation spoke for itself. He clutched Grant's hat tighter and, his face as unreadable as the gunman's, he lay back down on the stretcher, shivering, but not from the cold... The woman medic, sensing Billy's angst, pulled the wool blanket up to his waist comfortingly. It didn't make him any warmer...
Just when it seemed like the situation was hopeless, the gunman waved his hand at something on the ground once more.
"Look, in that clearing down there. I think I see something. Can we land?"
The pilot was skeptical. "Not there. Not enough room for us to land. The coast is just ahead. We can land there. The troops should be here any minute. If anyone's down there, we'll get to them."
Billy didn't know what to think. If they were at the coast, and they still hadn't found the others, what did that mean?
The helicopter landed gently and Billy could hear much commotion outside.
"What's going on?" Billy was left in the dark again.
The female medic looked away from the open door the young man lying on the stretcher. "We found your friends." she smiled. "All four of them."
Billy grinned, an immense sense of elation washing over him. Dr. Grant and the Kirby's were OK! They were all going to be rescued!
After several seconds that seemed like an eternity, the gunman addressed someone that was just entering the helicopter. "Is this man with you?" The familiar face of Dr. Alan Grant appeared above Billy's head, looking down at him. A look of surprise was etched on the older man's face, then quickly replaced by a warm, comforting smile. That was the first time Billy had seen Grant smile sincerely since before they landed here almost two and a half days ago.
"Billy!" Grant gasped, clasping the younger man's hand firmly.
"Hey." Billy smiled weakly, just happy that Grant wasn't still so mad at him for what he did almost a day earlier. He held Grant's dirty hat out to it's owner, amused by the man's alarmed look. "I rescued you hat." Billy joked modestly.
Grant took the fedora from his friend and gave him a funny look. "Well, that's the important thing, isn't it?" he teased lightly.
Billy sighed in relief and allowed the paramedic to lay him back down gently. Now that his reunion with the others was over and he could finally go home, all he wanted to do was sleep. Some words were exchanged between the male medic and Grant before the older man left Billy to rest peacefully. There would be time for friendly words and apologies later, after they got home. Billy's eyes fluttered and closed tightly. It wasn't long before he slipped into a heavy and much-deserved sleep. They had done what they set out to do- rescue Eric and bring him home safely.
The threat of Isla Sorna and Isla Nublar may still be there, and the fact remained that the dinosaurs should never have existed there in the first place, but for the five weary survivors on the helicopter, all that mattered was that they were alive and that they would live to see another sun rise tomorrow morning.
*~*
Fin. Please read and review! Thanx! ~Karebear~
Written by Kara
SUMMARY: Billy's POV. Big spoilers so don't read if you haven't seen the movie yet unless you like having the movie spoiled for you (like I do). Cameo by the spiffy compys because they didn't appear quite enough in the film.
"Do you think it goes all the way across?" Eric Kirby peered into the thick fog, wondering if this rusty, decaying old catwalk was their way to the barge waiting below, or if it was just another death trap the instant you laid your foot on it, By the neglected look of it, Billy Brennan, standing behind the group of five, voted for the latter.
"Only one way to find out." Dr. Alan Grant announced, regaining his spirit and ambition after his near fall from the stairs only seconds earlier. He had more passion for taking risks than any other person mostly because he possessed the desire to live and get off this island more than anyone else. Billy admired his strong qualities- he admired everything about Grant, which is why it was so difficult to know how ashamed Grant was at him for stealing the raptor eggs from the nest. It was without a doubt the most naive and brainless thing Billy had ever done in his entire life. It had put all their lives at risk- but still, knowing the reasons didn't make it any easier for the young man to know that his mentor- his friend- now abhorred him...
Dr. Grant edged onto the catwalk reluctantly. The metal supports creaked and groaned audibly as he did so. Obviously, they weren't what they were eight years ago.
"I think we had better do this one at a time." Grant said, more of a command that a suggestion. He turned slowly and disappeared into the fog after only about three feet. All four onlookers watched and listened with baited breath to Grant's careful and calculated footsteps until they finally stopped.
"OK, you can come across now!" came the paleontologist's voice.
Billy had no intentions of going until last so he backed away to let the Kirby's go first.
Amanda Kirby turned to her son and gripped his shoulders reassuringly. "Eric, honey, Mommy's got to leave you for just a minute, but you'll be right behind-"
"Mom. I survived alone on this island for eight weeks. I think I can handle the next two minutes without you." the thirteen year old interrupted
Billy had to admire the kid's wit. Maybe Amanda Kirby was being a *bit* too over-protective.
The mother exchanged a nervous, shocked look with her ex-husband, Paul Kirby, and at a reassuring smile from their son, crossed onto the catwalk. Several tense moments later, Amanda's voice came floating over to them. "OK, come on Eric!"
Paul Kirby guided his son onto the catwalk, hand on the boy's shoulder to let him know in a less subtle way that he would still be there later on. Eric vanished into the mist leaving Billy and Paul alone.
Billy averted his attention to his shoes, the hot burning of shame and guilt still evident in his conscience. He couldn't force himself to talk or even look at any of the people he was with. He nearly gotten them all killed. He didn't deserve their regard. They probably didn't have anything to say to him anyway.
Paul shifted uncomfortably, anticipating his son's reply, but what came instead was every parent's worst fear- Eric's terrified screams!
Billy's stomach flopped over when, without warning, Eric came running back in his and Paul's direction, a tremendous creature with even bigger wings in hot pursuit of the boy. With barely any time to react, the two men froze and the exuberant winged reptile took flight, snatching up Eric as it flew off! It had just tightened it's claws around the youth's shoulders and hoisted him off the catwalk like an eagle would to a fish and flew over their heads into the fog. Just like that, Eric was gone!
Blindly, Billy and Paul spun around trying to figure out what direction the bird had taken. Alan and Amanda rushed across, meeting up with them in just seconds.
"Did you see him?! Where is he?!" Amanda was near hysterics. Paul wasn't too far behind.
"I- I don't know! I just-" Paul didn't know what to say. He had just witnessed his son being carried off by the prodigious reptile to who-knows-where. They weren't sure there was anything they could do, but unless they acted quickly, Eric would be bird food.
'I have to do something- anything- to make this right.' Billy thought instantly. Paul and Amanda Kirby wouldn't be able to handle the thought that they had finally saved their son only to lose him once more. He remembered the tattered parachute they'd found at the crash site yesterday and an idea popped into his head. He hadn't gone parachuting since the previous year when he'd almost been killed (and even then they weren't being harassed by extinct reptiles), However, that didn't matter to Billy as he slipped away from the frantic group unnoticed and dashed up to the observation deck a floor above. He could do this... After doing so much wrong, he would finally do something right.
The young man checked the parachute once before climbing onto the balcony's ledge. It was a long way down and the ground was invisible to him through the fog. The whole scene was dizzying and a sensible part of his mind asked him why he was even doing this but the irrational part of his brain was the part he was focused on at the time...
It was then that Dr. Grant noticed his protégé above his head, ready to jump. "Billy..." Grant began, getting the false impression of Billy's intentions.
Billy shot the older man a 'I-have-to-do-this' look. "It's OK. I know the consequences." He averted his sight back to the daunting mist for only a second, realizing that he had no idea what he was about to do. Parachuting in a constricted, tight area was not the most-advised thing to do and was damn near impossible.
"Billy... NO BILLY!" Grant cried as the young man jumped off the ledge.
He fell several yards, hoping the canyon was deep enough before he jerked on the ripcord. The parachute exploded above him in a bright red and white burst and immediately caught a strong updraft which carried him back up slightly.
Gripping the cords tightly, Billy focused solely on steering himself around the enveloping canyon walls in the direction the still-unidentified bird had supposedly taken Eric. The vigorous drafts were somehow enough to carry him quite easily, though he hoped they weren't too strong or else they might blow him into one of the rocky and very lethal walls. He was dancing on the edge of a knife as it was already...
Around a bend, the mist cleared and Billy caught sight of Eric on a high rocky pillar, fending himself off with... what looked like a skull... The boy tossed the rotting bone at a large nest full of at least half a dozen hatchlings on the pillar next to him. It seemed to keep them away- for only a second. Moments later, the famished birds swarmed him, biting and pecking him with their tiny beaks.
Eric protected himself as best he could, throwing the hatchlings off him but he was outnumbered. They just kept coming. It was then the boy noticed Billy coming to his rescue. He tossed the last of the hatchlings off and hopped to the pillar next to his to get closer to Billy when he came by.
With careful precision, Billy steered himself as near to the pillar as he could get. "Jump now!" he demanded of Eric.
With the baby 'birds' on his heels Eric jumped and grabbed Billy's leg as he passed. The added weight of the thirteen year old shot a sharp pain up Billy's leg but he ignored it. He had much more important things to concentrate on- like getting the both of them to the ground safely.
Just when the duo had gotten out of range of the nest, there was a distinct tug on the parachute. Horrified, Billy and Eric looked up to see that the mother reptile had torn a crippling hole through the cloth with her claws. She wasn't letting her prey escape that easily... The two began to lose altitude, falling quickly.
"Eric! Let go!" Billy ordered. "It's the only way!" The younger boy hesitated briefly, but let go, splashing into the lake from ten feet above. Now Billy's only dilemma was getting himself out of the harness. Unable to function any longer, the parachute became snagged on a spire of rock, leaving Billy wide open and vulnerable. He swung around, just barely avoiding smashing into the acute unblunted canyon walls and instantly began tugging on the harness to get it off, only vaguely aware of Grant's cries below.
A large animal- now identified as a Pteranodon by it's coloring- came right at Billy, the intent to kill evident in it's eager black eyes. It swooped in near his head but Billy ducked just in time so it instead severed part of the harness.
Thanking cruel fate, Billy wrenched on the harness until it snapped, letting the young man drop into the deep pool below with a big splash. He hit the bottom of the river hard with his right foot, a dagger-like pain stabbing his ankle, but he dragged himself to shallow water anyway. Surfacing and standing upright, Billy found himself in knee-deep water and staring at Paul and Dr. Grant about ten yards away.
Paul looked grateful and Grant just looked relieved that Billy was OK. The older man began to smile, but that grin faded away only moments later, replaced by a look of disconcern.
"Billy, look out!" Grant yelled.
Billy frowned knowingly and glanced over his shoulder to see several Pteranodons closing in on him. He waved his arms frantically at the Grant and Paul. "GET BACK!" he screamed at them, motioning for them to run. "GET BACK!" As he began to wade towards his companions, something hard and solid struck him in the shoulder like a hammer. The crippling blow sent Billy sailing forward into the frigid river and it wasn't until he tried to stand up again that he realized the Pteranodons still weren't satisfied...
With no where to run and little time, Billy was again attacked by the Pteranodon, but this time it had help... Two or three more gigantic reptiles joined the mother, swarming their new prey with vengeance.
Ignoring the pain in his ankle, Billy tried to run but the predators were relentless. They bit, scratched and clawed at his back as he retreated, leaving his shirt in tatters with hot blood trickling down his back from the deeper wounds. He threw up his arms to protect himself but found that to be a serious mistake. A Pteranodon latched itself onto Billy's arm, it's claws scraping across his comparatively tender skin like thorns and tearing it viciously. Gasping in agony, Billy stumbled on as the blitzkrieg assaults continued without end. It was all occurring too quickly... what was he supposed to do?
As Billy stumbled upriver, he took every chance he could to search for a place to hide, something to make the pain go away, but as the Pteranodons persisted in attacking the young man, it seemed less and less apparent that he would make it that far...
A larger, bull Pteranodon tried to lift him off the ground by sinking it's claws into his shoulders but found this difficult when it had to fend off it's fellow reptiles to do so. Billy punched his clenched fist at the bird only to have it sink it's teeth into his wrist.
The beast let go as Billy tripped on a rock, but not before it's dagger-like claws scraped his already bloody shoulders. When he was thrown to the ground once again, he struck his head on another rock, just above his left eyebrow. There was almost a sure chance he wouldn't make it out of this alive...
It was then, as he picked himself up off the ground weakly that Billy noticed a dark hole in the canyon wall. He didn't know how far it went back or even if he would fit through the opening, but he couldn't wait any longer or the chance would be gone, and in his state, he couldn't afford that...
Billy backhanded the closest Pteranodon, sending it into the water, and ran, the flock still barraging him. Much to his own surprise and the Pteranodons' chagrin, Billy made it to the hole in one piece. As he dove through, however, a frustrated bird latched onto his bad ankle, twisting it's teeth into his skin and making the young man cry out in pain. He kicked at it's face with his left foot several times before the Pteranodon finally let go, shrieking in distaste. Using this opportunity, Billy crawled deeper into the crawl-space until his back was leaning against the small cave's backside.
The flock still hadn't had enough, apparently. This... this prey of theirs had just stolen lunch then got away itself. They weren't about to give up on the hunt this easily. Screeching and cawing in anguish, they jammed their long beaks into the cave at Billy, missing him by only a hair's breadth. Billy kicked out his foot, coming into contact with the Pteranodon's eye. It recoiled in horror and tried to retaliate but the hole was too small. Despite it's best efforts, it could not reach it's crippled prey. The birds were just too vast to fit in the cave. After only a minute of scrabbling and biting at the surrounding rocks of the entrance frame, the flock finally gave up, leaving a bleeding and broken Billy collapsed inside the cave.
He lay still for a long time- he couldn't tell how long- just recovering from the sudden shock. He hadn't thought it possible, but his body hurt everywhere. He was bleeding from various wounds on his body, his ankle hurt like Hell, and every time he moved, he was reminded of the pain of the open wounds. He was surprised he was still amongst the living, but he didn't hold much hope of making it out of this hole alive... Besides, the flock was probably waiting just outside the cave for him. The velociraptors were clever enough to set a trap. Who says these... creatures... wouldn't as well. He only hoped that Dr. Grant and the others had gotten out of the canyon safely. He would hate it to know that his sacrifice had been in vain, but he'd dislike it even more to know that Grant- his close and valued friend- was in the same position as himself.
Billy decided that he'd best check his injuries before he lost too much blood to move. He may have lost most of his hope, but there was still that tiny percentage inside of him that fought bravely to survive. He wasn't about to give up yet.
Stinging, blinding pain coursed through Billy's arms and shoulders when he attempted to move them. Wiping a trickle of blood away from his eye gingerly, Billy saw that his right forearm had three deep gashes running along it's length from the thick claws. The other arm had the bite pattern of a Pteranodon around his wrist and hand, but there were no other serious wounds on his arms. His hands were shaking violently at the sight of so much of his own blood but that couldn't prepare him for his other injuries.
Billy knew he needed something he could use as bandages but the only thing he thought of was the tattered tan over-shirt he was wearing. Carefully removing the shirt, Billy leaned against the damp wall, groaning at the slashes on his back.
Even though the shirt had already been ripped into fairly long strips, it took all the young man's energy to tear them away. He wrapped one around his right arm and another around his left hand, hoping they would stay tight enough to keep pressure on the wounds and prevent them from bleeding anymore.
Using his right hand, Billy wiped away the crimson blood that was dripping down his forehead from when he hit the rock. His fingers barely touching his head, Billy traced the laceration from his right temple to mid-forehead. It wasn't deep, but it was serious. It would require a few stitches- if he didn't die first... In the meantime, the young man dabbed at it with a strip of cloth, cleaning away the blood before wrapping his cut awkwardly.
Not wanting to remove his black T-shirt, Billy pulled down the neck to examine his shoulders. Both had deep puncture wounds and gashes but there wasn't much he could do to them besides apply pressure. Most of the cuts were only minor. It was the holes from the claws that really made his shoulders sore.
Though it ached intensely, Billy leaned forward to roll up his right pantleg. The ankle was already swollen from when he dropped from the parachute and the Pteranodon bite only served to irritate the wound even more. He couldn't even move his leg without hurting it more, he knew. Nonetheless, the young man lifted the foot onto a flat rock and used the remaining strip from his T-shirt on the ankle. He held the cloth ineptly with only his left fingers, the bandage preventing him from holding it any tighter.
Quite certain that he'd done all he could do, Billy leaned back again, licking a minute amount of blood off his bottom lip. He spit into the water on the floor of the cave he was in, trying to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. What he wouldn't give for an Altoid... Better yet, what he wouldn't give for some Aspirin... or a bottle of whiskey- whatever worked better.
Unwilling to leave the safety of his hiding place, Billy thought about everything that had just transpired These 'birds'- now clearly identified as Pteranodons, were not natural by any account. According to fossil records, Pteranodons were generally smaller than this. There creatures were not of customary size or stature and a conventional Pteranodon could not carry off a thirteen year old boy like these ones had. Obviously, the reptiles had been genetically engineered to be bigger and stronger than they should have been, most likely for public show and entertainment. These giants had been locked in this birdcage for eight years. They probably only ate whatever came in by river so it was no wonder they decided to attack Eric and Billy. Not only was he a threat to the nest, he could feed the whole flock for a few days... before he got away, that is...
He hadn't heard any commotion outside for a while and hoped again that Grant and the Kirbys had gotten away safely. If they escaped this observatory and managed to avoid the velociraptor pack, they would surely continue on to the coast to anticipate rescue. Someone would find them eventually, if they got that far. Billy wondered if the others knew he was still alive. If not, he didn't blame them. He'd hadn't thought he'd make it this far either, but still... if they were waiting out there for him, he didn't want to make them wait long.
Weakly, Billy pulled himself up, using the cave entrance for support as a wave of nausea overtook him. When the dots before his eyes cleared, the young man stumbled out into the daylight, scanning the area for Pteranodons. He didn't see any, but that didn't mean they weren't there. He picked up a big stone from the water intending to use it as a makeshift weapon if necessary.
Billy also didn't see Grant or the others, but again- that didn't mean a thing... Something floating along with the current several yards away caught Billy's eye as he searched the river. He limped over to it and snatched it out of the water, noting it to be Dr. Grant's ragged old fedora hat that he wore practically all the time. That unmistakable old thing...
A sick feeling crawled into the pit of Billy's stomach. If Grant's hat had been knocked off somehow, then... No, that didn't signify anything. It could have easily been blown off. Was he even wearing it earlier? Before Billy had been attacked? He couldn't remember.
The paleontologist clutched his friend's hat to himself like a safety net. It was probably the only thing keeping him sane right now. As long as he didn't find any bodies anywhere, he was grateful for the fedora. Suddenly, Billy realized he'd been standing in the open all this time and could be easily spotted by predators. He had to find a way out of this observatory. Obviously, the others weren't here anymore.
Dizzy and disoriented, Billy waded to the nearest shore, slowly, due to his injuries. He couldn't risk hurting himself any further. He still had a long way to trek... though each step reminded him of how hard it would be. He needed a reprieve from his ankle. Ahead of him, Billy saw a fallen tree branch. Stepping on the lower, thicker half with his good foot, Billy painfully leaned over and snapped the upper half of the branch so it left him with a decent enough walking stick.
Shifting his weight to his left foot, Billy stuffed Grant's hat into one of his oversized cargo pant pockets so he wouldn't lost it. He tested the stick, using it as a cane to walk. It let up on his ankle a little bit, but the pain was still noticeable. It would have to do, however. If Billy was to be rescued with the others, he's have to make it to the coast with them, however far away that may be...
He set off downriver, wary of his surroundings, and soon came upon a set of claw marks dug into the dirt right in front of an open set of double gates. The door out of the observatory. Billy's stomach tightened. These birds, these genetically enhanced giants, were free to go wherever they pleased. They had escaped this birdcage to join the free birds of the sky to fly, to hunt, to kill...
Fortunately, Billy also realized something else. The Pteranodons could not have opened the gate by themselves. That must mean someone had survived! Sure enough, he noticed one or more sets of tracks made by human feet leading out into the foreboding forest. Grant HAD to be one of them, Billy was convinced.
A sound Billy had come to recognize as the flapping of wings sounded from somewhere near him and the young man looked behind him to see another large Pteranodon swooping down for him...
Quickly, Billy limped out of the gate and pushed on the other side, trying to get the heavy door shut before the reptile got too close. Using all his strength he could summon, Billy shoved the gate shut and latched it. The beast crashed into the mesh wire, causing Billy to slip and fall back into the mud. Sprawled on the ground and having barely escaped death once more, Billy scrambled away from the gate, his heart beating rapidly. The Pteranodon squawked at Billy, clawing at the gate to be free like it's fellow birds. Billy wished it wouldn't make so much noise... Other dinosaurs could be nearby...
The young man made sure he still had the hat and stick and made his way to the river where they had seen the barge earlier. Like expected, the boat was gone. He couldn't even see it downriver. The others were gone and there was no way he could catch up in the near future.
There was only one option- start walking.
*~*
Hours later found a fatigued and weary Billy following the same river which seemed to stretch on endlessly. Night had consumed him and the once hot, muggy temperature had surprisingly dropped to at least 75 degrees. The darkness of night was closing in and Billy wished he had a flashlight. Pretty soon he would be moving blindly in hostile territory without knowing where he was even going. He was ready to collapse from lack of sleep and hurting worse than ever, but he couldn't stop. Falling asleep here, now, would only mean death.
So he trudged on, right arm clutching the cane, left arm wrapped around his waist in a last-ditch effort to stay warm. His pace had slowed visibly, though he hadn't realized it yet. The wounds- which he's had to re-wrap more than once- were getting to him. His body weighed down on his legs like a ton of bricks with every step he took and his mind cried out for sleep that he would now allow.
If he could just stop here and take a little nap, what would be the harm? Just rest his eyes for five minutes and continue?
Finally, the war in Billy's mind got the better of him. His knees buckled, the stick dropped out of his hand and the world started spinning around him like a merry-go-round. The scene dancing before his eyes made him dizzy and Billy found he could not pick himself up. His body had had enough and betrayed him once and for all. He stared at the river without a thought inside his head besides grim ones of death and pain as darkness swept over him.
*~*
The next thing Billy knew he was at home... Cheryl Logan was there. He and Cheryl were lying in his bed, just lying there, talking. Cheryl was looking at Billy. 'God, she's gorgeous' the young man thought, bemused. She giggled at something but Billy wasn't paying attention to the words being spoken. He was concentrating on Cheryl in all her magnificence.
The young lady leaned down and whispered something in Billy's ear but again the words were lost to him. All he knew is he liked this attention. He'd been going after Cheryl for some time, working his charms. Sure he was a hopeless flirt, but could you blame him? Cheryl still liked him for it.
Billy closed his eyes, drifting away mentally and smiled as Cheryl stopped whispering in his ear and started... nibbling on it... She moved down to his neck and... suddenly, his bedroom faded away before him. His clean, white walls morphed into the green leafy forest and murky brown water several feet ahead. The sweet, perfume-y smell he'd sensed only moments before vanished, replaced by that of a stank, horrid smell unfamiliar to his senses. But the feeling- oh the glorious, comfortable feeling he could feel before, dissipated and all he could feel now was cold, hard ground and dirt... and oh so much pain... The pain was unbearable... It made Billy want to scream but no sounds came out.
With a groan, Billy remembered where he actually was. He wasn't at home, in his bed, with Cheryl, he wasn't anywhere near there! He was on the dangerous, uninhabited, restricted Isla Sorna, the former Jurassic Park breeding island. He was alone, lying on the ground, and he was injured... The Pteranodon attack... It all came back to him now in a rush. He barely had time to comprehend all that had happened when he felt a sharp pain tugging at his ear.
Cheryl Logan wasn't nibbling on his ear... something else was! Billy tried to lift his hand to brush the creature away, whatever it was, that was biting him, but he found he could barely lift his arm. All of the sudden the thing bounded in front of his face. Billy recognized it instantly. It was a compy. Procompsognathids, actually. Their breed was no bigger than a common chicken and this one proved correct. It was the right size, unlike the Pteranodons. The compy looked at Billy curiously, cocked it's tiny head and made a chirping noise.
Disgusted and disgruntled, Billy slapped his hand at it, sending it flying into a bush. He'd had enough of dinosaurs getting a 'piece' of him today. No more biting, no more scratching, no more friggin' nibbling! Besides, the compy made him uncomfortable. Compys were commonly scavengers, which meant they only hunted that with the aura of the dead or dying... Kind of like vultures or a mini Grim Reaper.
After it had recovered, the small dino popped back out of the bush, obviously angry at it's treatment by it's supposed meal and chirped at Billy some more. But just as the young man was about to hit the compy again, he felt something nipping at other parts of his body- his hands, his feet, his neck... The compy wasn't alone!
Compys were generally harmless dinosaurs when matched with bigger creatures. They couldn't do much harm to Billy due to their size, but their needle-like teeth were really starting to hurt! Billy pushed himself up, knocking a few of the pests off as he did so but they jumped back on him like lizards and continued to assault him.
With a grunt, Billy picked one off his shoulder and threw it three feet into the brush. He looked around to see that he was surrounded by the buggers. At least 10 or 12 of them, and they all had this odd look of fierce determination in their eyes. A couple of them swarmed him, biting at his fingers as he brushed them off. Compys weren't supposed to be this aggressive, but he guessed that eight years on either island and previous encounters with hostile humans would make them tougher. He really didn't want to put up with this now. Weren't the damned Pteranodons enough?
And, like the flying reptiles, the compys attacked from all angles relentlessly, biting and scratching at his face. Frantically, Billy threw them off as fast as he could, but not before one sunk it's tiny teeth into his neck. Yelling in frustration, Billy grabbed the compy by it's body and ripped it off, taking a bit of his skin with it, as the creature refused to let go.
It was obvious that sitting here was getting him no where, so Billy stood up, brushed off the compys, and looked for a place to run. He didn't have much time to think, so he just ran. The compys followed dutifully, nipping at his heels. Billy kicked up a wave of dust and dirt at the flock but it didn't stop them.
He considered scaling a tree but he wasn't in any state and he knew he wouldn't be able to do it in time. There was no where to hide from the little guys... but then Billy saw the river. Compys couldn't swim, could they?
With barely a second thought, Billy changed course towards the river, diving in head first. The cold water sent spikes through his body and stung his wounds, but he quickly resurfaced, treading water in the middle of the river where it was just slightly over his head.
Shivering from the frostiness Billy pushed his hair off his forehead and looked towards shore. Many of the compys halted at the shoreline, chirping angrily at their escaped prey; Others just ran around maniacally, biting and snapping at each other. Several bolder ones tried to jump in after Billy but they were consequentially swept away by the current, squealing in distress.
Billy had escaped the dinosaurs once more... but now he was stuck in the river... He flowed with the current for a while, the compys following him on shore, but soon the miniature dinosaurs got bored with their lost meal and ran away. Billy waited until he was sure the compys were gone then waded towards shore again. Slowly, the drained young man pulled himself out of the river, collapsing in a heap on the shore. Now he was wet and miserable. And still alone. Could it get any worse?
His hope had run out. Like water sinking down the drain, the thoughts of surviving dissipated. It was kind of a disheartening irony, Billy mused, that a thirteen year old boy could pull through alone on this island for eight whole weeks, but four adult men could last barely two days. Billy really admired the kid now. He only wished he was as strong-willed as Eric.
Billy lay there- he didn't know how long- just watching the sun rise over the trees and thinking about his family, his friends, every person he'd ever cared about. He found himself dispersed in memories, visions of a more pleasant time. Celebrating holidays with relatives... vacationing with friends... making new discoveries on his job... The pain was lost to him. All he could see now was the leaves of the trees rustling and swaying slightly with the breeze.
Eventually, the leaves began to blow more violently, without cause, really. The young man gazed up curiously, his expression shifting into one of fascination as the branches themselves began to shake with the leaves, but he felt no breeze whatsoever.
A sound reached his ears... a vague, clicking noise. More dinosaurs, maybe? Why not? Everything else on this island wanted a piece of him. The sound morphed into that of... a helicopter... but that was impossible wasn't it? No one could know they were here already... why would there be a helicopter?
Billy began to pass it off as more hallucinations. Yes he was definetely fantasizing again. There was no way he was being rescued now. He was supposed to die now. He was supposed to be dead already...
But as the 'helicopter noise' came closer, it's presence became harder to deny. Could Dr. Grant have gotten word to someone already?
Billy pulled himself into a sitting position. If he was right- if there really was a helicopter- he might as well try to signal it. He was going to die anyway... Why not die twenty feet from here? At least then he'd know he'd made an effort to survive.
Idly, Billy rose to his feet and trudged through the towering trees towards a clearing visible ahead. Once he was there, he looked up expectantly and saw what he least expected to see.
There actually was a helicopter up there in the sky! Well... hypothetically. He wouldn't see it beyond himself to dream up another mirage like the one with Cheryl.
It was passing overhead at a snail's pace so Billy took the chance to wave his arms over his head so the unconfirmed helicopter pilots would see him... if they were even there. It worked! The chopper hovered, then began to descend towards him!
Whatever Billy had done, help could be on the way. He would just have to wait and see what happened. Perhaps he really had just signaled a helicopter. In any case, his energy was gone, and upon taking a deep breath of fresh air, the young man sunk to his knees then lay in the dirt on his side. In a few minutes he would either be dead, or be rescued. Right now, either option seemed to be a desirable one...
*~*
It all happened like a dream. One minute, Billy was lying down, eyes closed. The next instant there were faces above him, hovering over his own. Two men and a woman from what he could see. Fragments of conversation were heard.
"... He's still alive... conscious too..."
"Can't believe..."
"He should be dead by now..."
But none of this was sure proof of anything substantial. All that he's heard and seen thus far could be created with his mind. It wasn't until one person actually touched him that Billy knew he wasn't envisioning things again. This was real... He had actually been rescued!
One of the men put two fingers on Billy's wrist, checking for a steady pulse. Billy grimaced as light was shone directly into his eye.
"He's reactive..." the woman announced.
"Sir," the man who had touched him addressed Billy. "Sir, can you hear me? Is your name Alan Grant?"
"Grant? No..." Billy's heart sank. "You haven't... you haven't found them yet? The others..." Billy coughed trying to sit up. Strong hands pushed him back down gently. "The coast... they're there. I know it."
"Sir, please lie still. We will find any other survivors in your party but you need to cooperate first."
"... kay..." Billy left himself in the hands of the professionals. They, at least, knew what they were doing on this island.
"Hey! What's the damn hold-up?! I'm not waiting on this island any longer than five minutes. Let's go- now!" A different voice sounded from farther away. 'Probably someone in the helicopter.' Billy surmised.
"Just one minute!" replied the medic.
Slipping in and out of consciousness, Billy was dimly aware of the people rolling him onto a harder surface. Straps were placed over his chest, preventing Billy from moving, but it's not like he has anywhere to go anyway...
The people tending to him each took a place around the board Billy lay on and lifted it to transfer him into the helicopter. The people had barely set foot inside when the chopper took off, raising back into the air... off this island...
Inside, Billy slipped into a blissfully ignorant state, elated that the nightmare was finally over. He didn't even realize when a needle was inserted into his arm.
As the paramedics dressed the Billy's wounds, he asked, "How did you know to come here?"
The female medic responded. "We got a phone call. From a Dr. Ellie Sattler."
Ellie... Grant talked about her a lot... usually with an air of sadness, regret... In any case, that could only mean one thing: Grant was still alive! Or at least he was when he made the call...
"May I ask what your name is?" the woman interrupted Billy's thoughts as she dabbed something on the cut on his forehead.
'Ooh, felt that...' Billy winced at the stinging sensation. He answered anyway. "Uhh, Billy. William Brennan."
"All right, Mr. Brennan. Do you remember how many others were in your party?"
"...Four." he said reluctantly. "At least I hope there's still four. They're on a boat, uhh... uhh, a barge. On the river. Are you going to look for them?"
"Yes, of course we will. Our pilot has called in a message. There should be troops on the coast in about ten minutes. We already have another chopper waiting there."
'Troops?' Billy thought, perplexed. He glanced around the inside of the chopper just now noticing it's vastness. They were in a military helicopter!
The woman gingerly unwrapped Billy's makeshift bandage that had somehow managed to stay on his right arm the whole time. She shivered slightly at the sight of all the blood.
"What did this?" she asked icily.
"A really big bird." Billy was in no mood for specifics. Out of the corner of his eye, Billy noticed as the male medic lifted his pantleg past his ankle to out some sort of splint structure on his foot. Except something was preventing him from rolling the cloth up. The man pulled Grant's hat out of the pantleg pocket and held it up.
"What do you want me to do with this?"
"Give it to me." Billy said quickly, taking the fedora under his left arm.
"You need some rest." the woman medic informed.
"I will." Billy lied. The truth was, he just couldn't sleep until he was sure Grant and the Kirbys were safe.
*~*
Several minutes passed without conversation when the fourth person in the chopper besides the two medics and the pilot, spoke up. Billy guessed that this man was there for protection purposes as he carried quite a hefty gun close at all times and didn't seem to know how to do much else.
"Down there. Take us lower."
Billy's pulse raced. "Did you find them? Are they down there?"
No one answered him, just landed the helicopter silently. Billy felt like a little child again, wanting to know things that the adults knew, but that no one would tell him, as if he wouldn't understand. The gunman hopped out the side without a word. Billy propped himself up on his elbows, figuring that if no one was going to tell him what was going on, he'd find out for himself, but the woman held him back firmly.
About four tense minutes later, the gunman returned, his face expressionless as always. The other passengers glanced at him with rapt interest, their eyes asking all the questions.
"There's a barge down there in the middle of the lake." he reported to the pilot. "Looks like it crashed into something. I also saw what looked like come big cage in the middle of the lake but I can't see if there's any... thing inside. It's half-sunken. Anyhow, I can't find anybody down there. They've either moved on by foot or..." he couldn't bring himself to say the words in front of Billy.
Billy didn't need the words, however. The situation spoke for itself. He clutched Grant's hat tighter and, his face as unreadable as the gunman's, he lay back down on the stretcher, shivering, but not from the cold... The woman medic, sensing Billy's angst, pulled the wool blanket up to his waist comfortingly. It didn't make him any warmer...
Just when it seemed like the situation was hopeless, the gunman waved his hand at something on the ground once more.
"Look, in that clearing down there. I think I see something. Can we land?"
The pilot was skeptical. "Not there. Not enough room for us to land. The coast is just ahead. We can land there. The troops should be here any minute. If anyone's down there, we'll get to them."
Billy didn't know what to think. If they were at the coast, and they still hadn't found the others, what did that mean?
The helicopter landed gently and Billy could hear much commotion outside.
"What's going on?" Billy was left in the dark again.
The female medic looked away from the open door the young man lying on the stretcher. "We found your friends." she smiled. "All four of them."
Billy grinned, an immense sense of elation washing over him. Dr. Grant and the Kirby's were OK! They were all going to be rescued!
After several seconds that seemed like an eternity, the gunman addressed someone that was just entering the helicopter. "Is this man with you?" The familiar face of Dr. Alan Grant appeared above Billy's head, looking down at him. A look of surprise was etched on the older man's face, then quickly replaced by a warm, comforting smile. That was the first time Billy had seen Grant smile sincerely since before they landed here almost two and a half days ago.
"Billy!" Grant gasped, clasping the younger man's hand firmly.
"Hey." Billy smiled weakly, just happy that Grant wasn't still so mad at him for what he did almost a day earlier. He held Grant's dirty hat out to it's owner, amused by the man's alarmed look. "I rescued you hat." Billy joked modestly.
Grant took the fedora from his friend and gave him a funny look. "Well, that's the important thing, isn't it?" he teased lightly.
Billy sighed in relief and allowed the paramedic to lay him back down gently. Now that his reunion with the others was over and he could finally go home, all he wanted to do was sleep. Some words were exchanged between the male medic and Grant before the older man left Billy to rest peacefully. There would be time for friendly words and apologies later, after they got home. Billy's eyes fluttered and closed tightly. It wasn't long before he slipped into a heavy and much-deserved sleep. They had done what they set out to do- rescue Eric and bring him home safely.
The threat of Isla Sorna and Isla Nublar may still be there, and the fact remained that the dinosaurs should never have existed there in the first place, but for the five weary survivors on the helicopter, all that mattered was that they were alive and that they would live to see another sun rise tomorrow morning.
*~*
Fin. Please read and review! Thanx! ~Karebear~